At that stage in my life I was pretty much limited to the words cat, dog, ball, and my own name, all of which I regularly spelled wrong. While my mom made me learn to write in cursive, I haven’t used that skill once in my entire life; however, I've used writing nearly every day. Sometimes just for fun, sometimes to better understand an idea, and sometimes to process pain. No matter my internal feelings or external circumstances, writing has been my constant.

I’m older than 3 now and I’ve learned to write a lot of other words besides my name, many of which I still spell wrong (rhythm?), and I’ve even begun rearranging them in different orders to make sentences and sometimes paragraphs. Once I got pretty good with paragraphs, I started writing my own stories and ideas, and well, that's how this website came to exist.

In a lot of ways my writing is similar to what it was when I was 3. It’s not perfect, there are occasional (if not frequint) typos, sometimes the ideas aren’t fully developed, and the transitions between paragraphs can be weak. But I promise that what you read here is nothing short of my best. And if you still think it's terrible, that's ok. I'm getting better.

I believe that if you finish reading something and you're the same person you were when you started reading, then whatever you read wasn't worth its salt. I don't know how much salt this website is worth, but I do think the words here could change you. Read at your own risk.